Over Brooklyn
by Raven46
Summary: You live and die on the streets of Brooklyn. Race and his friends know that very well. When tensions rise between another group in the five boroughs will all of them survive?
1. Over Brooklyn

Over Brooklyn

The sky was bathed in twilight. The chimneys dark squares with gray plumes of smoke curling from their mouths. The smoke rose up to the dark night's sky, swirling around clouds of gray, wanting to burst through to the stars that were begging an escape from the smog. The rooftops seemed to continue on for infinity, their tips Blinking the edge of the sky in jagged angular cuts. Tiny cooing sounds came from the right side of the roof where a rickety old pigeon coop was located. A towering fortress looming over its rooftop kingdom. Pigeons milled around the tar topped floor, pecking at whatever scraps of corn were left from their feeding earlier that day. The gray pigeon bent its head backwards and began to muddle through its feathers, its head thoroughly encased by the gray softness. Everything was shadowed. The shadows crept from behind walls and from deep within corners till the rooftop I was sitting on was a pond of black. The darkness always seemed to sneak up on me, dissipating the light rapidly like the wave of a hand. The shadows swept over the faces of my friends making them look like ghostly figments of themselves. Their faces gaining a ghastly monstrous appearance. They became creatures of the night, coming alive under the blue moon.

I was slouched down comfortably in my family's old leather recliner, the top had been patched with a piece of denim and there was a wide slash in the seat reminiscent of a gaping cavern. I kicked up my feet and propped them on the makeshift crate table, my heels catching on an edge of one of the slats. My friends and I had stolen the wooden crates from behind Iavarone Brothers awhile ago and lugged them up onto the roof to use for our own benefit instead of having them thrown away.

My girlfriend had squeezed herself onto my lap, her round ass pressed deep against my crotch, warming it like a blanket. Blink leaned over his knees, cracking his knuckles one by one and as he did so, allowed a lazy down turned smirk to appear on his lips.

"We're gonna get those mothafuckas and kill 'em." The group of us, all shrouded in darkness, rolled our eyes with a collective groan. This was Blink's nightly tirade. He spoke on and on about how those greedy bastards from Staten Island came up in here and tried to act tough and shit. Then his arms would start flailing wildly like a birds in erratic flight. Spit would come flying out of his mouth from his excitement, little specs of it landing on our unsuspecting faces. Droplets of his beer would spill out from the bottle's top. On the whole, it was fucking hilarious to watch until eventually we started to realize he was actually serious. Jack sighed loudly and tipped some beer into his open mouth, looking much like a guppy gulping water, then swallowed loudly. He glanced at me with a look of sheer boredom in his lazy blue eyes.

"You say that every night we're up here. Every fucking night, Blink . Why don't you stop talking shit, get off your ass and do something already?" Casey said, pointing her beer bottle at his face, eyes narrowed slyly .

"Well, whatcha say Race? Why don't we take that beat up truck of yours and head over to that sorry excuse of a borough?" Blink asked me, leaning back against the old beach chair he was seated in. Another of our brilliant rooftop decorating ideas was to situate ripping beach chairs around the crate table and recliner. I shrugged a shoulder, let my feet drop to the rooftop, reached over Casey and grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the crate. I slapped the pack loudly against my palm and then popped a filter into my mouth.

"Depends on if you got the balls or not." I said, somewhat muffled by the stick in-between my lips. I shrouded the tip with my palm and lit the tobacco-ed end.

"Oh I got the balls. I got balls enough for every guy there." Blink responded. Jack laughed, blowing herb smelling smoke from his nose with a choking cough, his fingers curled around the circular shaped pipe. The smell of pot had always been enticing to me, a sweet scent that I could sense from a block away. The smoke curled around my nostrils and forced me to deeply inhale, taking the tart wisps deep into my lungs. I didn't care if pot was illegal.

"Yeah right. You ain't even got balls enough to take me." I couldn't help but laugh at Jack's statement. It was true. Blink wouldn't even fight a fly. I cupped my cigarette almost into my fist, holding it secure from the wind and any other obstacle that might steal my precious nicotine away from me.

"Listen to me, Blink." I leaned forward, reaching my cupped hand to his face. "You go over there, start trouble and then chicken out and I'll kick your ass personally. It'll just start trouble for us here, got it?" I flicked the cupped cigarette with my three free fingers, the lit end giving off a pleasant warmth on the palm of my hand, gave it a slight shake and then brought it to my lips.

"I'm gonna go there and do what I gotta do."

"Don't be fucking stupid, Blink." Jack said sternly, his voice raised slightly in pitch from holding the psyche altering drug deep in his lungs. Evidently it hadn't kicked in yet. Blink snatched the bowl from Jack and took a hit for himself.

"Tonight. I'm heading over the Verrazano and taking out those bastards one by one."

"Yeah, ok." I rolled my eyes, noticing slightly that Casey had tuned us out. She was already complacent with the whole idea and would have liked to drag me off into the back alley to do some dirty, morally unacceptable things to my body. I can't say I would have minded very much, but I was stuck with my asshole friends on top of my roof. They'd probably be there until at least four in the morning, fuck.

"Blink forget it. It ain't worth it. They ain't worth the little time we got." I said to him, trying to at least get through to him, though I knew I was talking to a brick wall by this point, considering he was under the influence. Blink's mouth opened to reply but stopped as soon as he heard the entrance to the roof crack open in a earth shattering screech.

"Race?" I heard a not yet matured boy's voice call. I turned my head to glance at the door and saw my scrawny little brother's head peeking through the black space. Truthfully, I noticed the broad tortoiseshell glasses surrounding his little brown eyes first. He sniffled through his nose, he had a cold again. It was as though I could hear the mucus echoing in his chest every time he came anywhere near me. My brother was like a magnet for any sort of germ that turned up in the medical field and was highly susceptible to asthma attacks. He carried his pump in his back pocket always for he never knew when one was to come on. He was tiny for his age, more than tiny, puny. I always felt that if he were to fall down he would snap in half like a brittle piece of wood. I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to muffle the groan escaping from the back of my throat.

"What do you want?" I spat at him harshly. I knew he was petrified of my friends and shook with the sight of them. I could crush my baby brother with my pinky finger if I wanted to, though I never would. I acted like the mean older brother I was supposed to be but truthfully I adored the kid. I would protect him with my life if it ever came down to it.

"Don't talk to him like that!" Casey yelled at me and slapped me on the back of the head. I grunted and rubbed the sore spot with a defeated look on my face which earned sBlinkers from Blink and Jack. "What'cha want Benny?" Casey asked him sweetly.

"Mama's cryin' downstairs and Race's always up here," He bit his lip tentatively and shuffled his feet, still gripping the golden doorknob of the heavy metal door. "I didn't know you'se were up here." I sighed heavily and patted Casey on the back. She got up from my lap, the cold rushing to the empty space like a fierce slap. I flicked my cigarette with the same three fingers, shook it and finally took a long drag before sending the item sailing like a rocket over the edge of the roof. I walked over to my brother and crouched down to his height.

"You can't stay up here." I told him quietly. He nodded slowly but still didn't move. I raked fingers through my brown hair and glanced back over my shoulder, the boys warning me not to let the twerp stay. They don't wanna play babysitter and I couldn't blame them for that. Casey on the other hand had stood, hands on her hips, a watchful eye, making sure that I chose the right thing. That would be, of course, to let Ben stay on the roof with me while my mother dealt with whatever the fuck she was dealing with in her room downstairs. Casey had a soft spot for Ben and when he was feeling badly about being bullied or something else she would let him sit with us in my room and watch a movie of his choice which usually turned out to be The Goonies. Ben loved Casey like an older sister. Ben rubbed his nose and looked down at his muddied sneakers. I sighed heavily.

"Fine," I relented, took his hand and lead him over to the group. "You don't like it you can leave." I said sternly to the boys who were starting to protest adamantly to the presence of a ten year old in our midst.

"I gotta get out of here anyways. My dad's been on a rampage about me having some responsibility and all that bullshit," Jack said with a shrug. "See ya around Race."

Jack's dad was a locksmith, and a good one. At a young age Jack had learned how to jimmy car doors, use a bobby pin to bust open locks and hot wire a car. Later on he learned how to open a securely locked safe. He liked breaking into places just to be there after hours and mull around. In our senior year of high school he broke us into New Town and we roamed around the halls for a good three hours. Jack's father had a firm belief that he would take over the shop after he retired. Jack didn't care, though becoming a locksmith wasn't first on his list of ideal jobs.

"Yeah, see ya around." I said with a nod. The minute Jack stood, so did Blink . That's the way Blink was, he followed whenever someone was willing to lead. I waited for the echoing slam of the metal door. After it closed Casey skillfully swept the swirled glass bowl into her bag and zipped it closed. I started to dump the empty beer bottles into a black garbage bag I kept in the corner for such occasions. Ben had by now moved his way over to the edge of the roof, his arms laid flat against the ledge while he peered down.

"Race, I can't see." He called to me, looking over his shoulder at me. His glasses slumped down over the bridge of his nose. I set down the garbage bag and went over to him, lifting him up easily and setting him on his knees atop the ledge, keeping a firm grip around his waist.

"Who's car is Blink getting into?" He asked with eyes wide, using his index finger to lift his glasses back up on his nose. I hadn't been paying attention and so at the mention of unfamiliarity I leaned over to catch a glimpse. I'd never seen that crowd before but Blink seemed to be very acquainted with them. I watched a brief conversation occur, hand shaking, and cigarettes being tossed to the ground. They all entered the car. As soon as the black car door slammed shut they sped off down the street, a high pumping base echoing in their wake. Casey had meandered over to us just in time to see the car speed off. She glanced at me with worried eyes and I said nothing, instead looking down at my brother.

"Ain't nothing you should worry about. C'mon, it's cold up here and I got work tomorrow." I patted Ben on the back before setting him down on the ground safely. I collected my pack of cigarettes from the crate, shoved them in my back pocket and hoisted the garbage bag over my shoulder. I let Casey and Ben head down the stairs before me and as I shut the door I could still hear the pumping of Lose Yourself blasting from the black Benz zooming down the block. I heard the loud screeching of the tires as the car whipped around the corner and careened down the next street.

Sheepshead Bay held lone fisherman trying to catch tiny trout. When the fishing boats would come in to dock I could hear the old men calling out their prize, waiting for a restaurant owner to purchase their stock for the day. The cries echoed down the piers and docks of Sheepshead, a constant buzz flying to the end of Brooklyn. The fishing boats with their shouting crews drifted out into the bright morning sun towards Oyster Bay, the gurnies squeaking as the sails unfolded into the wind. The nets were dropped into the fresh water and waited to catch the unsuspecting prey of fish filets, salmon and other delicious tasting fish. Party boats retreated into the darkening sunset, making a smudge on the bright neon colors of red and gold in the far distance. The patrons of such boats dressed in flashing cocktail dresses and starched suits. Men sweating and tired hauled cargo onto boats, grunting with the weight of their burden. The crates groaning as they were moved from place to place, protesting the next destination to which they would arrive.

The docks protruded out to the bay inviting daily water activity by whoever chose to partake in it. Each length of dock seemed to stretch farther than the eye could see, catching the far end of the bay with its squared rim, a line leading out to infinity. The sharp smell of the bay and fish caught daily loitered in the air like a smog floating in the sky. A sharp cut through my nostrils. The faint cry of seagulls squawking in the distance and the flapping of their wings against the sunlit sky carried across like a melody.

The boardwalk was loaded with an array of fish restaurants each quaint and nestled securely close to the water. Any passerby could chose among an assorted amount of elaborate restaurants. Lundy's was one of these restaurants, nestled into this quiet part of Brooklyn near the water's edge. I had come to loathe the smell of fish, the taste and even the way a fish looked. The round bloated stomach. The cold, filmy, staring eyes. The eyes of the dead fish seemed to stare out at nothing, never locking on a sight or blinking. The silver scales shone like blades under the florescent lights of the kitchen. I watched their heads chopped off carelessly, the lifeless body part getting flung haphazardly into a nearby gray garbage pail.

I also hated serving people for a living, especially the ones who left me crappy tips thinking I didn't deserve it. Old ladies with white poufy hair dropped me quarters for the trouble of serving them. Men in business suits would leave me a buck on a fifty dollar tab. I would grind my teeth, flash a fake thankful grin and walk away with my hand clenched in a fist wanting to punch them.

I had worked my entire life. From the time I realized my family couldn't afford to buy me special toys. I had started walking dogs for a dollar, cleaning off snow from cars and shoveling sidewalks for a price that I bartered with individuals. Over the years I'd worked in pizzerias, bakeries, and even Fortunata Brothers making foamy cappuccinos.

Lundy's was my current evening job while I worked at Pier 13 in the mornings, unloading and loading cargo ships. Currently, college was out of the question and so I made a living by hard labor. My manager Elliot, had called me earlier this morning and asked me to come into work. I took up the opportunity for the extra cash immediately and hopped on the subway out to Sheepshead. I had the day off at the docks.

Currently I was standing outside the back door to Lundy's, smoking next to the acrid scent of dumpsters and garbage bags. I could smell the dirt floating up from the alley, a murky film in the air of the small space that I frequented in the evenings. Late at night I would see rats the size of cats scuffling through the garbage, hoarding their findings like diamonds. Their tales long like the body of a snake. The afternoon light was dim here and filtered into the alley at a sharp angle across from me, glistening a soft yellow hue while I was clouded in a dark shadow. I gave my cigarette a quick flick and shake before placing in my mouth as the chimes of my cell phone began to ring in my back pocket. I reached for it, flipped it open and held it to my ear.

"Yeah?"

"That fucking moron. He jumped one of those guys last night. Gino's boys went with him." It was Jack. I knew someone had to be an influence on Blink, he never thought for himself and Gino wasn't exactly the greatest influence on anybody. He was hard and cold, six months out of jail and always looking for trouble. I don't mean mischievous trouble like me and my friends, more like dangerous trouble. The kind of trouble that I would have rather avoided.

"You're kidding me." I said in disbelief.

"I ain't making this up. Why would I do that? The kid's in bad shape. Watch your back, alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, ok."

"I gotta go, shit to do. Houses to open, locks to install. You know, same shit different day." The disdain in my friend's voice was clear. I could hear the screaming of Jack's father in the background, "Get your lazy ass back inside!" That was the way Mr. Santorini summoned his son back to work or for anything else.

"I hear ya. Call if anything else turns up, alright?"

"No problem."

I couldn't believe it. Blink, the same Blink who backed out of a fight in fifth grade because it was morally unacceptable, just went to someone else's territory and beat up a kid. Un-fucking-believable. All I knew was, all of us were in trouble now. It didn't matter if we were there or not. This was our fight now.

"Race! Daydreaming out there or what? Get your ass inside and get to work. I don't pay you to sit out there and dilly dally all day! Come on!" Fucking prick, I wish I could smash Elliot's face in one of these days. When I quit I'll make sure to spit on him. I tossed my cigarette to the floor and rushed through the door. I made sure to squeeze passed the monumental sized Elliot who to me resembled something of an elephant.

When my shift was over I ran from there as quick as the speed of light, charging down to the subway station. I was going to be late picking up Ben from school.

My mother was useless. I couldn't help but hate her deep down in my gut. The hate for that woman spread through me like a suicidal poison, sucking the life from my veins and souring even the sweetest of candies. After my father left her she fell into a deep depression, laden with self pity and self loathing. I was supporting my entire family while my father continued to ignore our growing poverty. It was as though him and his new Barbie doll girlfriend lived in a dreamlike fantasy world where remnants of reality no longer existed. Shit, I hated him too. If I never had to see my father again it wouldn't matter to me in the slightest but I knew it mattered to Ben. Ben hadn't seen our father in close to a month and I knew it was bothering him deep down like a small seed of pain growing in the pit of his stomach.

Ben was sitting hunched on the front steps of the school building, his head in his hands and elbows on his knees. I could see him blow out a deep gust of air from his lungs a sign that he was upset at being left alone, even though he coughed after. I was at least a half hour late and all the other kids had already gone home.

The building was like a mountain behind him. A five hour jail for kids who just wanted to play video games and run outside. I had attended the same elementary school and the teachers now regarded me as a bad kid who needed a "tremendous amount of discipline." At least that's what Ben told me Mr. Lynch said to him. And I told Ben it was bullshit. I watched Ben wheeze in agitation as I hurried toward the school building.

"Ben! I'm so sorry." I called to him as I reached the front gate, wrapping my fingers around the metal bars. I must have looked like a caged animal to my little brother, my cheeks red with fierce running. He responded with a one shouldered shrug. Ben stood and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. Ben kicked open the school gate nearly wacking me in the face causing me to hop back quickly. He started walking far ahead of me. I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face, didn't move for a moment to light a cigarette and hurried to catch up with my little brother. Lines of smoke trailing behind me like Jack and Jill's bread crumbs.

"Ben, I got out of work late," I tried the excuse as a means of a truce. He shrugged again and shoved his hands into his pocket. "Ben?" I sidled up next to him and shoved him with my shoulder.

"Stop it." He whined and rubbed his shoulder. I saw him crack a tentative grin though and smiled.

"That asshole tease you again."

"Yeah, so I threw my pump at him," I laughed. "I hit him square in the forehead."

"Nice!" I patted him on the back with an approving smile.

"Mr. Parson said if I didn't have asthma I'd make a great pitcher," He was grinning broadly. "He said that I could probably even make the Yankees." He looked up at me with wide hopeful eyes, dreams floating across them idly.

"Yeah Ben, you could be a Yankee." I mussed his hair and he swatted my hand away. The truth was Ben would probably never get rid of his asthma and never be big and strong like he wanted, but I couldn't tell him he'd never grow up to be a Yankee or a wrestler or a football player. It wasn't my job to crush my brother's dreams. He wanted so much to be the star player of something yet there was always something holding him back from it. I didn't want another one of those somethings to be me.

Behind me I heard the catch up step of someone following. I turned to glance over my shoulder and noticed a guy about my age following and gaining on me. A loping gate that began to increase steadily. I started to speed up my step as well and Ben in turn tried to keep step with me. The guy's steps grew faster and now I knew he was following me for certain. I grabbed the back of Ben's shirt and started to pull him along, his body twisting sideways making him stumble quickly to catch up. Then I started to run down the block, dragging Ben behind me.

"Race! Slow down! I can't run like that!"

"Keep up!" I yelled down at him and Ben glanced over his shoulder seeing our follower a mere ten steps behind. He tried to pick up his pace and run next to me but instantly started to fall behind. Street signs, buildings and street lamps were blurring past my eyes. Like when I was a kid and stared out of a car window watching the colors of everything mesh together in a mixed up stew due to the rushing speed. Ben had fallen tragically behind and I turned to see the kid almost able to grab my brother. That's when I doubled back. I whipped around at a speed I didn't even know I possessed and rushed toward the pursuer. My eyes only focused on my little brother, locking eyes with Ben, my heart rate speeding up. I was determined to reach him before the kid could hurt him. When I reached him I shoved Ben out of the way and heard him slam into the brick wall. A small shattering sound blasted into my ear as Ben's glasses cracked. A small yelping cry of pain escaped his lips, but there was no time to go to him at the moment. I grabbed the guy by his stupid expensive jacket created by a designer I couldn't even pronounce and shoved him none too gently into the brick wall of Mama's Deli. They made great sausage and peppers by the way. I lifted my fist to his face and sent it slamming against that baby soft cheek so hard my knuckles throbbed with the impact and blood squirted from the side of his mouth. A red ribbon floating down to the pavement below beautifully.

"You ever try to touch my brother again and I'll fucking kill you!" I screamed and shoved him away from the wall. His whole face erupted into a look of fear. He nodded in agreement. "Now, get the fuck out of here!" I watched him speed off down the block like the Road Runner with Wylie Coyote in hot pursuit. The heels of his sneakers kicking up behind him. My stomach growled. I looked at Mama's Deli and wished that I had the five bucks to get me a sausage and peppers hero.

"You ok?" I turned to my brother and asked. He nodded, his eyes wide with terror as he looked up at me. "What?" He shook his head quickly, scooped down to collect the broken glasses and wouldn't look at me for the rest of the walk home. His fingers clutched the frame as if he was holding onto them for dear life. Though his fingers shook anyway. For the first time in his life Ben was afraid of me and I was ashamed of it.

The walk home was silent. A cold fear filled silence. Ben wouldn't look at me, nor even chance a glance in my direction. When we reached the door to our apartment building he went to run inside but I grabbed him by his shoulders. He froze up instantly, big round bug eyes waiting for a slap in the face. His hand clenched around the frame of his useless eye wear.

"Do you know why I did that back there?" I asked him quite seriously. He shook his head nervously. "I did it cause I didn't want nothing to happen to you, alright? If I didn't hit him, he would have hurt you. It's how things are on the street, Ben. You fight or die. If you don't fight you have to be able to run away or you'll die. I know you can't fight and you can't run, so I fought for you." I looked into my brother's eyes for a glint of understanding but they were empty.

"Would you ever hit me like that if you were mad, Race?" He asked in a small child's voice, making him seem younger then what he really was.

"Never. You're my brother. My blood. It's my job to protect you. I might treat you like my annoying little brother, cause you are, but I love ya to death, got it?" I rumpled his hair and flicked his nose. Ben whined and rubbed it vigorously. He smiled mischievously and sent a punch into my shoulder. I feigned hurt and rubbed my arm with a mock pout.

"I'm not annoying," Ben announced triumphantly with his hands on his hips and chin jutted upward.

"Yeah you are and that hurt." I said with a broad grin.

"Stop lying," Ben retorted with a sharp snort. He bit his lip and looked down at his hand. "I broke my glasses."

"I'll buy ya contacts for Christmas? How's that?" I wrapped an arm around his shoulders as we headed inside.

"That would be awesome." He answered brightly and looked up at me with a smile.

Another hang out of the "group" was Pier 13. It only happened that way because I worked there and Adam didn't care if my friends and me took over the place after hours. I could hear the water from the East River lapping up against the molded wood, the watered breeze blowing up against my face as I pulled my jacket tighter around my neck and took tight lipped drags of my cigarette. The damp seeped in everywhere, curling around the empty corners and filling us with a chill. The sun was just beginning to set, the pier bathed in a calming golden glow. The glare of the sun was behind us. That brilliant ball of fire dipping down into the river, sizzling out like the flame of a candle.

I looped my arms around Casey's waist from behind, pulling her up against me and out of the cool wind. I placed my chin atop her shoulder and breathed in the lavender drifting from her hair, eyes closing in a moment of sweet content. My eyes opened as soon as I heard Jack's voice circling through the air.

"Why'd you have to go and start trouble for, huh?" Jack accused Blink, snarling at him as he thrust his hands against Blink's chest. "Race almost got jumped today and Ben was with him."

"I didn't know they'd actually come lookin' for nobody here." Blink responded, rubbing his chest wearily and feigning ignorance.

"You're a fucking liar! You knew they'd come and retaliate!"

"Come on Jack..." Blink pleaded and raised a brow as Jack took a step backwards. I turned my head to the tip of the Pier and saw why Jack had stepped back so cautiously. Five of them. Five designer boys coming down the Pier towards us.

All of them wore Armani t-shirts, men's Seven jeans and pristine white sneakers that never seemed to get dirty or grow old. They all looked alike, all wearing the same in the moment trends, trying hard to look cool. Dark colored blazers over T-shirts and Lacoste polos. Dirty distressed jeans that were bought that way and not worn in. Diamond pinky rings flickered under the sunset mocking the gold chains around their necks. The group walked with a loping swagger, an image that screamed of a James Dean chill while cigarettes dangled from their lips. Each of them had hair spiked straight up as hard as sharpened pine needles. They all used Ice hair gel. Their faces were set in perfectly trained cool frowns with an intent tension filled stare. All of it was practiced and all rehearsed. Everything about them screamed "so cool," yet me and my crew deemed them all fake losers with too much money to do them any good.

I patted Casey's hip and uncurled my arms from their safe hold on her waist. She stepped aside quietly. I took off my jean jacket, throwing it to the floor before taking a final drag of the cigarette me and Casey had been sharing and flicking it into the sparkling white ripple of the river below. I saw my friends getting ready for the fight and watched as Casey stepped back into the darkness. Before I was ready they were upon us, standing in a straight line across from us. There was some short guy standing on the right end of the line, cracking his knuckles trying hard to look intimidating. I watched my stalker from earlier break into a mocking grin and then swipe his thumb across his bruised lip. His tongue flicked out of his mouth like a snake's and ran over the ripened plush skin wiping away the trickle of blood that emerged from the ugly brown scab. The right side of his face was a swollen yellow, blue and purple pallet. I smirked in satisfaction. I had fucked up a perfect face.

Spot Gordello stood at the center of the line, one side of his lip curling upwards in derision, his chin jutted upward arrogantly asking us to start the fight. I stared straight into Spot's eyes not daring to break the gaze. Everyone's eyes were glaring, boring sharp holes into their opponents, daring the other to look away. I crossed my arms over my chest and could feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise almost like sails in the wind. My back muscles clenched up tightly and my arms pulsed as I waited for the first punch.

"I'm gonna kick your mothafuckin' ass you guido piece of shit!" Jack yelled from my right and I let myself reveal a lazy grin.

"You better shut your mouth you son of a bitch before I turn you over my knee and spank you like the little boy you are!" One of the boys a mere foot from us shouted maliciously at Jack.

"I'll beat your ass so hard your grandmotha's gonna be crying!" Jack countered and I shook my head slightly at the ridiculous banter.

"Come on ginny baby! Let me fix up that face for you!" The boy who spoke made mocking kissing noises, his lips puckered like a gold fish. I could see Spot starting to grin, his weight shifting from foot to foot. He smoothed a hand over his mouth and peered at me over his fingers, clear hazel eyes laughing at me.

"Look at these ginny bastards, just standing here waiting for us to come and take 'em out." I laughed outright at Spot's comment, my teeth grinding in the back of my mouth, a smooth scraping sound to calm the harsh ringing in my ears.

"I wanna see you take us in a fair fight. Your boys can't handle one of us Spot, how they gonna handle three?" I asked in a cocky voice and cracked my knuckles stepping forward.

The second I did so, Spot charged forward and the fight began. His boys went charging at Blink and Jack and I lost sight of them then. He came at me in a rage, his fist flying into my cheek with a burst of white pain shooting into my skull. I went back at him, my own body lurching deep into his plush belly, arms looped around his waist in a death lock, sending him crashing into a pile of wooden crates. They splintered and went flying over the edge of the dock, splashing into the water. Antony tumbled to the floor and I pounced on him, punching ferociously at his well fed belly and face. I wanted to break him in half, to pound him so hard he was unrecognizable. I punched his face, sending it slamming into the hardwood floor. I slammed fist after fist against his nose, blood flowing from his nostrils down over his mouth and chin. I heard the sickening crunching of bone as I punched until he finally got a hold of me. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and pushed me backwards. I went flying over his head in a wide arch, floating for a moment like a bird mid flight. Then my back pounded hard against the wood, knocking the breath from me in a gasp of shock. His weight was on me again, heavy and hard as I struggled beneath him to be freed. His fist collided with my chin. My teeth clicked together roughly and I heard a loud snap as a tooth cracked. I raised a knee to his crotch and forced it up hard, he grunted in startled pain as I hit his dick. Spot stumbled backward and I quickly got to my feet, spitting out the shattered tooth with a stream of blood. I gripped the collar of his shirt and thrust my foot into his chest with a teeth baring snarl, blood swirling around them making them glow pink. I thrust him backward. Desperate to keep his balance he clawed at my shirt, catching it between his fingers. It began to tear slowly but not quickly enough as we collapsed onto the wood and rolled across the splintered planks. We went sailing over the edge of the dock, disappearing into the darkness mid-flight.

"Race!" I barely heard Casey scream before I hit the water. My hearing was muffled by the sound of rushing water and my vision clouded over by the contaminated depths of the East River. The water pulled down at my clothes like damp hands wanting me to sink to the bottom of Brooklyn. I pushed to the top, kicking, arms moving in wide open arcs. I swam hard and broke the surface sputtering and coughing wildly. The dirty water tasted of raw sewage and waste. A vomit flavor swarming down my throat and between my teeth, curling underneath my tongue and against the roof of my mouth. I tried desperately to spit away the taste from my mouth but to no avail. Spot burst through the surface next to me with a loud gasp, choking on the disgusting water as well. As if at the same time we both realized the piercing quiet. My pounding heart suddenly began to fill the deafening silence. Our heads both turned to the stopped commotion of the world above.

"Blink!" I cried out and swam to the edge of the dock, prying myself from the gripping hold the water held on me, arm muscles shaking as I pushed myself over the edge as quickly as I could. I ran to the end of the dock where Blink lay strewn in an unnatural position on the wooden floor. Blood pooled around him like a sacred blanket bathing him in his own life line. I couldn't move. I stared into the glassy eyes of my childhood friend and shuddered at the cold they now possessed. All of us crowded around the body wordlessly and I saw Spot glance at me with compassion and for once understanding. I broke free from his glance and glared at the boy holding the knife with a shaking hand.

"You son of a bitch!" I screamed in pain, anger and loss. I rushed towards him, hands outstretched, ready to circle his throat in my maddening state. Casey came running out of the darkness yelling at me to stop, don't.

"Race, it's not worth it!" She pleaded as I grabbed the guy around the neck, shoving him up against a pile of crates. He stumbled backwards, his voice choking and squeaked as his fingernails clawed at my bloodied knuckles. I didn't even feel him tearing skin away. Spit was dribbling out of the corner of my mouth, eyes red with rage and the forced holding of tears. My mouth curled into an anger filled line of hate. And all I could see were the eyes of a killer looking back at me, though they were pleading for his own life.

"Stop, Race!" She cried out once again before throwing her arms around my neck, trying to pull me backwards. As if snapped out of a trance Jack ran towards us and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back. I felt my fingers scrape into Blink's killers neck as my hands were ripped free. I watched him cover the bleeding claw marks with his hands, sink to the floor and then wobble to his feet. They pushed me back, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. My glare was blurred with hot tears as I watched Spot's boys run away from the docks, Blink's killer coughing and limping in the rear. Their sneakers squealing and thumping as they fled.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, and took a hold of Casey's arm, my knuckles burning and turning white as I did so. Blood ran down my fingertips like little rivers draining. I panted loudly, gasping for air, trying to fill my body with each thrust of my lungs. Casey let go of my neck with only one arm and I felt her hand sliding up over my forehead, moving through my hair as she pressed her cheek against mine. I could feel the tears tumbling down over her face.

Spot stayed behind, he held a stern respect for what had happened and I knew that he believed what happened was wrong. To fight was one thing, but to pull a weapon and actually kill was quite another. Spot believed that as well as the rest of us collected around my friend's lifeless body on the dock. It was a code among street kids. Fight but don't kill. The minute Blink's blood was shed Spot knew he had to clean up the spill just as much as I did.

The red and blue flashing lights blinded my eyes and the shrill ring of sirens echoed in my ears. All of us sat and waited as the NYPD came to the scene in their white and blue cars. Their lights lit up the whole pier with colored blinking. We sat on the floor, stunned into a statue-like state. Casey's arms were curled around my waist and her face buried against my neck. I stared blindly ahead, not able to speak nor look at my friends. Jack was at my right, a hand on his knee, the other holding a cigarette. It burned slowly, red sparks turning to ash which floated away on the breeze. It burned down to the filter, Jack never lifting it to his lips. Spot stood off to the side, hands in his pockets and eyes gazing intently at the floor. My eyes couldn't focus on anything but the black body bag's silver zipper, the teeth reminiscent of knife points, being pulled up over my friend's head.

"I ain't used to things being so quiet." Casey said to me, her head resting lightly against my shoulder, legs strewn across mine. I could tell that her eyes were partly closed.

"Me either." I said in her ear, my voice husky and cracking from the deep chest cold and sore throat I had developed from my stint in the water. I kissed her cheek softly, it was still damp with the remnants of tears. We thought it only right to honor Blink by a night on the roof. Still dressed in our black funeral clothes we had solemnly climbed the eight flights of stairs, broke open the door and took our places, Blink's empty. None of us could help but stare at the empty space. I coughed suddenly and wiped my nose on my sleeve.

"Blink would be getting loud right about now, saying something about beating somebody up," Jack said with a tight lipped grin, cocked his head to the side, and raised a brow. "He was always good about having lots to say but not much to do about it."

"You could say that again." I agreed with a nod.

"Did you see that Spot was there? " Jack asked me, nibbling on his bottom lip idly.

"Yeah, he pulled me aside and told me he was sorry. He was, ya know? That was the only time I'd ever seen him be really sorry about anything," I replied, clearing my throat trying to rid it of its scratchiness. "It was outta respect, I knew he'd show up. He's got a conscience unlike the rest of 'em." Jack nodded.

"Can we stop talking about it?" Casey asked quietly. "It was enough being there but do we have to keep talking about it?"

"What happens if we don't talk about it? It's still there ain't it? So what's the point of trying to forget it? Blink wouldn't want us to forget it anyways. He'd be talking about it till we told him to shut the fuck up." Jack said to Casey.

"He's right. Blink would be bragging about that fight and you know it." I said.

"Yeah. He'd be saying how he kicked everybody's asses and then helped you'se out when you couldn't handle it nomore." Casey spoke, mimicking Blink perfectly and we couldn't help but chuckle.

"Which everyone on the block would know was bullshit and just laugh at him." I continued and all of us grinned.

I heard thunder rumbling down across the sky, a thousand collapsed bowling pins crashing to the floor. A flash of lightning cracked against the clouds, breaking them apart instantly. A wide gap shimmering towards the heavens, waiting for the downpour to begin. Then with only a moment's peace the sky broke free and sent the rain tumbling down to the shadow laden rooftops in a sheet of crystals. Casey jumped up from my lap and ran for the door with Jack.

"Race, come on!" They called, the door shutting automatically.

Instead of following them, I stood up slowly and shut my eyes, my arms falling open at my sides. I let the rain ripple down my body. It trickled down over my clothes in tiny glistening rivers, wetting me straight through the cotton. The material sticking to my skin. My pants started to grow heavy, pulling down at my waist, but I didn't care. I stood in the rain, letting it soak me through, as though I hoped it would cleanse my soul, but instead it drenched me with bitterness. It felt like silk on my skin. As I titled my head back it tickled my lips, pooled into my eyes and rushed down my face angrily. The tears I could not cry. My eyes fluttered open, burning, blurring drops falling into my irises and dripping down from the corners. I glanced at the crying sky, saturated hair hanging shaggy like a mangy dogs, and silently yet sincerely said goodbye to Blink.


	2. Dark Stranger

Note: This chapter has been re-written and hopefully made better. There's a lot that's the same I just changed things that I wanted to elaborate more on or I felt needed changing. The first chapter was re-written three times before I submitted it, so it's not unusual for me to do this. Here is the newly revised second chapter!

Dark Stranger

It was hot. Unbearably hot. The heat seemed to roll off our tongues making us pant like dogs. The stray across the street was laying on his paws, tongue touching the burning sidewalk, waves of heat pulsing out of its nose. A cat meandered out of the side alley, a loping sluggish stride. The dog noticed it immediately, ears perking up with a growl, but he did not move. The heat was too much. The cat continued its painful saunter across the street. It almost looked as though it were melting into the midnight tar. The ground should have been steaming like that of a hot spring. The cat disappeared behind the Delabruno house and the dog relaxed once again onto his paws.

From my seat on the stoop against the scratchy crumbling brick I stared at the rusting silver Honda accord and could only see a blurring fuzzy line of drizzle. The air was burning like the fires of hell. The rays of the sun poured down on us mercilessly, the beams ricocheting off glass windows like bullets shooting into our skin.

Jack squinted his eyes, one eye squeezing entirely shut as if in dire pain. He turned his face away from the iron rail of the porch. The outside of my apartment building wasn't exactly appealing to the eye, but hell, it was home. The rust-colored bricks were crumbling down off the face of the house which seemed to be in a constant dreary frown. The door had paint chipping and rolling down its surface. There was always some new disrepair to my building. The wrought iron railing that circled the tiny four stepped stoop also had tidbits of paint snapping away and it was rusting through to the bone. I could hear the pigeons cooing overhead, a constant cacophony of noise that filtered down from the eighth floor. It was a faithful nagging, the one thing that never changed.

"I swear to God if I don't get some fuckin' water I'm gonna kill somebody wit' my bare hands." Jack growled to himself and lifted his hands in a tense strained pose, ready to strangle. The veins in his fingers pulsed rapidly, like a rushing river. I raised a brow at my friend and then lit a cigarette. I chuckled, the white stick wagging in my mouth like a puppy's tail. I snatched the "smoke" from my mouth after taking a drag and cupped it into my palm. I inhaled with a sharp hiss and looked to Jack.

"Ya know who you sound like?" I smirked, my face transformed into a sly Cheshire cat's.

"Who?" Jack pursed his lips together and widened his eyes so he resembled an olive skinned owl.

"Blink." As soon as that haunting named passed my lips I regretted it. My mouth tightened fiercely and I ground my teeth deep into the inside of my lips. My face tensing up at the thought of my friend. Blink's memory drifted over us like a rain cloud ready to let loose and downpour. In March, Blink had been killed on the docks of pier 13. He was gutted like a fish by some no good designer boy. One of those no good bastards who thought they were better then everyone else, dressed in expensive clothes and looked down on people who had nothing and earned every cent. I hated them for their Armani Exchange T-shirts, the pristine sneakers and expensive jeans. Blink's memory plagued us like a disease, festering as the months plowed on. The grotesque image of his body contorted in death, laying like a broken pigeon on the splintered wood, his blood dripping out of him like a red water fountain, left me with nightmares.

I looked at my brother Ben when I heard him give a wheezing sigh as he casually tossed his canvas baseball into the air and caught it with a whump. He leaned his head back against the brick wall, his brow shrouded with sweat. The salty beads trickling down the sides of his face, which he stubbornly ignored. He tossed the baseball once more and caught it with exact precision. He held that baseball with a reverent gentle grace, cupping it like he would the curve of a baby's head.

My brother had these outrageous dreams of becoming a star player for the New York Yankees. He wanted desperately to be out there on the baseball field, the smell of grass and dirt all around him. Everyone but Ben knew that it was impossible. My brother suffered from severe asthma and general smallness for a kid his age. He rarely went a month without being sick. He rested his outstretched heels onto the scratched wood of my old skateboard. It wasn't like I was gonna be riding it anytime soon. A skater obsession I had in seventh grade forced me to walk about a thousand yipping dogs to buy that thing. Anyway, Ben rocked it back and forth with his heels, the wheels gliding over the concrete like sandpaper on wood.

"I'm dyin'!" Jack blurted, throwing his hands up in the air with defeat. "Since when is Brooklyn supposed to get this hot? Never! It ain't supposed to be this hot!"

"Jack relax. You can't do nothing about the heat." I rolled my eyes and Ben grinned, catching his baseball, moving the skateboard back and forth while he sweated.

"Yeah, I can. I'm gonna put in a complaint to God and say 'Hey God, yeah you, lower the fuckin' heat.' He'll be so shocked by my use of vulgar language that he'll listen. Then I'll thank him." Jack began to smile. Ben laughed outright and so did I.

"Yeah like the big guy is really gonna listen to you, or any of us for that matter." I squinted my eyes against the blazing sun and looked to the sky. Was he really up there? Some all powerful guy who determined the rest of our lives? I could only wonder. Instead I saw a blank pane of blue. A sheer blanket of nothing that rolled over the houses and apartment buildings of Brooklyn. There were no clouds swimming across the bright sky today. No clouds that would form into Abraham Lincoln, pigs, cows, a ford mustang, or even a playboy pin-up. The cotton candy clouds had dissipated leaving us with a blank canvas.

"Couldn't hurt to try?" Jack shrugged.

"Yeah, I mean why not try? The worst that could happen is he don't listen or strike you down with lightening." Ben whispered with a small smile. He shrugged his shoulders, blew on his baseball and rubbed it against his shirt, shining it like an apple.

"When did this kid turn into a philosopher?" Jack said, thrusting his thumb in Ben's direction.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" I asked with shock. Ben was my little brother that didn't mean that I knew everything about him.

"Well find out. I wanna sound that smart when I talk."

"You'll never sound that smart when you talk." I remarked with a grin.

"At least I don't wanna stay stupid for the rest of my life." Jack countered and then smirked at me.

"Why don'tcha ask him how he got that smart?"

"I would but . . . "

"Just ask him." I said with exasperation.

"Hey! I'm right here guys!" Ben shouted as loud as he could and waved his arms above his head. Then he coughed, deep throaty coughs. He fished about on the sidewalk for his inhaler, found it and then shoved it into his mouth at once. He pressed down on the metal circle with his index finger, which contained his life saving medicine, and then sucked it all into his lungs with one breath.

"You shouldn't really leave that thing layin around on the floor." I said to Ben, taking another drag of my cigarette.

"Yeah, now ya got germs rolling around all over that thing making germ babies." I looked at Jack with a raised brow, not believing what I was hearing. It took a lot of willpower not to laugh.

"He puts the thing in his mouth, its got germs all over it anyways."

"I took it out of my pocket and forgot to put it back," Ben shrugged with a wheeze. "Hey, Race?"

"What?" I asked, the heat beginning to get to me, making me irritable. I pulled the sticky cotton T-shirt from my chest and began to pulse it in and out, like a heartbeat, trying to fan away the rivers of sweat pouring down my chest. It wasn't working.

"Can we get some ice-cream?" He asked with a hopeful smile.

"That sounds good. Lemon Ice King? Uncle Louie G's? Oh man we could get some everywhere. Let's chase down Mr. Softie." Jack was practically drooling. I chuckled to myself and wiped my brow with the back of my hand. Then I sighed heavily and fished in my pocket. I was completely out of cash. I mean it wasn't like I was used to having rolls of dollar bills in my pocket, but this week I was absolutely broke. I didn't even have a Blinkel.

"So, who's payin'?" I remarked sarcastically and received a knowing look from Jack. He knew that I was broke. I hated when my friends knew how desperate I was for money. It was about time I started looking for a third job.

"Ya know what Ben? I don't need no ice cream. You go get some for yourself, all right?" Jack said with a smile, he leaned over the edge of the stoop and pressed a five-dollar bill into Ben's hand. "Bring me back my change though."

"Thanks Jack!" Ben scrambled up from the floor tossing me the baseball at the same time. I caught it with my left hand. Ben planted his foot onto the skateboard and began to soar down the block.

"Don't go that fast! You got asthma! If you gotta go to the hospital one more time this summer Ma will tear my face off!" I screamed after him, but Ben was already turning the corner. He was probably headed to Mama's Deli. God, ice-cream sounded so good right about now.

"So where'd your cash go?" Jack asked, lighting up a cigarette of his own.

"My cell phone broke and I had to buy a new one. I still owe seventy-five bucks." I raked my fingers through my hair. "I fucking dropped it running for the train."

"Hey, shit happens." Jack glanced at me warily. "Why don'tcha come work for my dad? He'll pay ya fifty dollars a day."

"Still ain't enough. Do you realize that I pay for everythin' in that shit apartment? Even the rent. Fifty dollars a day ain't nowhere near enough."

"Well it'll help wouldn't it?"

"What would help is if my mother got off her sorry ass and got a fucking job!"

"I was just trying to help." Jack held his hands up in defense, palms flat to my face.

"I know. It just don't help." I hung my head for a minute. "I wanted to get outta here. I wanted to go to school. I wanted my own life and instead I'm still stuck in this fucking shit hole without a damn dime." Jack was silent. He knew what I was thinking now. He knew I was thinking we were all gonna end up like Blink. That we were all gonna end up in a sea of our own blood. If it was gonna happen, I wanted it to happen now.

The U-haul came up the block. The bright orange stripe clearly distinct amongst the dark red colored buildings and run down siding laden houses. It came up the street with a loud rumbling of its engine followed by a green minivan which seemed entirely empty. Me and Jack stared at the unusual occurrence. No one moved into this neighborhood, if they did they were never going to leave or they prayed they'd be out in a week. Everyone was looking to get out of here, not come in. It was full of guys who thought they were thugs, mobsters and junkies. These people didn't look like any of that and yet they were moving into our run down area of Brooklyn.

The minivan stopped just behind the U-Haul. Out stepped a woman with brightly blonde streaked hair and a round waist. An older man also appeared, a beard speckled with gray and a Marlboro T-shirt. The drivers side door to the U-haul opened and out stepped a guy around my age. He walked around to the back of the U-haul where I could see him clearly. His mouth was down turned into an angry frown and eyes were rimmed in black. He had a bruise the color of violets along his cheek. He surveyed the area with a dark look in his eyes, squinting as he looked straight at me, crossing his arms. He dared me to fight him, battling me with that one look. I looked right back, jutting my chin upward and then raised a corner of my mouth in a cocky come and get me grin. His expression never changed as he rustled his black hair. He unlocked the back of the truck with ease and then yanked open the metal door with one swift movement. The door rattled and rumbled as he pulled it open. He had arrived and wanted to make damn sure everybody knew it. He lit a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth, biting down on the filter with a sneer.

"What did I tell you about smoking in front of me, Tug?" The woman snapped at him, frowning. He took the cigarette from his lips and smirked.

"You said not to smoke in front of you." He said in a tauntingly clear voice. He put the cigarette back in his mouth and took a drag. He then proceeded to blow a series of perfectly round smoke rings.

The woman then glared at the older man saying, "he's _your _son!" before storming into the apartment complex with a creek of the decaying wooden door.

"Yeah, I'm _your _son." He replied in a cocky over confident voice. He began to unload his belongings from the truck and head into the building.

Well, things around here would certainly never be the same.

"That kid's got one serious attitude problem." Jack said to me with a cocked brow.

"Ain't we all got an attitude problem?"

"Yeah, but it ain't nothing like that, Race."

"Yeah, you're right."

"As long as he don't try to take over our block I really don't give a shit." Jack said with finality. I couldn't deny thinking the same thing. I could already feel the tension rising in my chest. This was our block, our own little world that we controlled through years of dedication and busted lips. I knew then that if this new kid tried to treat the block as his own there would be some serious territorial problems and Jack wouldn't think twice about busting his face in.

My day had seemed nearly endless, just like all summer days. I had busted my ass at Lundy's. I probably served close to a hundred tables that night, maybe more, and was coming home with a nice big fat wad of tips. I was in a good mood. A really good mood. Summer days never seemed to end in Brooklyn. Even when the dusk began to settle in, the sky was still bright. It still glowed. It was riveting, a royal blue glowing against the streetlights. It could be four a.m. and no one would realize it. No one would notice until that one bleak crack of sunlight splayed across the velvet ocean had turned it purple. I shoved my hands in my pockets as I turned the corner to my block.

Out of the corner of my eye I couldn't help but notice her, standing there near the mouth of the alley. She was one of Casey's friends, I knew that much but we didn't see her often. When we did, she had a loud mouth and didn't give a shit what she said. I liked her. She knew how to put anybody in their place and wasn't afraid to do it. God was she gorgeous though. I couldn't help but stare at her, nobody could help staring at her. She had these deep brown eyes that reminded me of Godiva chocolates and her hair was the color of burning chestnuts. There she was, standing on a street corner, her hip jutted out to the side and her hair tossed back, lips pursed in an inviting seduction. Her clothes clung to her like a second skin, so tight that I felt she couldn't breathe. She saw me watching her as I walked and she flashed me a perfectly white toothy grin. I smiled back with a nod of my head. She made her money by haunting street corners at twilight and sleeping with men in cheap roach infested motels. Sometimes I'd see her in the mornings with her high heels off as she walked home, the straps held in her left hand, her right holding a cigarette. Her mascara would be drifting down her cheeks in a black curtain, her hair a sex tossed mess. Her godiva eyes would be blank, empty except for the haze of tears. She was a beautiful disaster. I tore my eyes away from her and began to search the street for the faint silhouette of Casey. She said she would meet me down the block when I called and told her I was on my way home.

I continued onward, the sky fading to a dark blue when I saw Casey coming toward me carry a McDonald's bag. Yes, chicken nuggets. Score!

"Well, look who it is? Is this my missing girlfriend?" I smirked at her. She ran the last three steps and wrapped her arms around my waist, kissing me softly. I smiled with my mouth pressed to hers. "Oh it most definitely is." I pinched her ass and she slapped my chest.

"Hey, it ain't my fault I haven't seen you. You're the one who had to take on extra shifts cause you dropped your phone."

"Don't make me feel like an asshole."

"But you are an asshole." She said ever so sweetly, her eyes alight with pleasure.

"Ha." I rolled my eyes and the two of us turned to walk up my block. I noticed something going on at the top. The new kid was standing in the middle of the street glaring at a broad chested guy and was encircled by the rest of his group as well. They looked familiar. The five guys surrounding him looked awfully familiar. I grabbed Casey by the hand and began to pull her up the street.

"Slow down, Race. Christ!" I ignored her, which I knew I'd get yelled at for later. Once there I knew immediately who they were, Gino's boys.

"Fuck." I muttered to myself. They usually didn't come into this part of the neighborhood, not after the trouble they started with Blink. Now it seemed they had some trouble with the new kid, some sort of trouble that needed to be sorted out. Gino would be back terrorizing our block, trying to sell off his opulent drug stores. I saw Ben standing on the stoop, his hands grasping the railing tightly, knuckles a milky white. He wheezed loudly, chest heaving in his nervousness.

"Casey stay by Ben."

"But . . . "

"Case." I glanced at her and she knew immediately that I was going to intervene. What else is new?

"If you get beat up today I ain't taking care of your wounds."

"That's good to know." I winked at her and she responded by rolling her eyes. She jogged up the steps and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Your brother is something else, huh?" She whispered to him, ruffling his hair. Ben smiled and smoothed back down his cowlicks.

"Yeah, course he is. Otherwise, I woulda gotten beat up a thousand times." Casey chuckled and pulled Ben closer. Ben shoved his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

I meandered over to the group which was closing in on the new guy. I took my time, sizing them up. I hadn't fought with Gino in years. Well, truthfully, the only time was in elementary school when he stole a brownie from me. You don't fuck with a kids chocolate. That fight was different. That ain't like the fights we all get into now.

"Hey Gino, I missed seeing that ugly face on my block." I grinned at him and he turned to see who had insulted him so.

""ey! Race, where ya been?" I just then noticed the bridge of his nose was cut in a thin slice and scabbing over rather nicely. There was still some swelling around that area and looked like it hurt pretty bad when it happened.

"Around, busting my ass." We shook hands. Good, we were on friendly terms then.

"Yeah I had to disappear for a while. Things kinda got a little hot."

"Oh yeah? Sorry to hear that. So, what's the problem?" I asked with a raised brow, trying to keep it casual.

"Ain't no problem. Right, Tug?" Gino sneered and then licked his lips.

"Yeah, for now there ain't no problem, Gino. Just stay away from her." Tug cracked his knuckles and glared. He looked like a bull catching its first glimpse of red. He was ready to charge. Gino nodded and whistled through his teeth, a signal that it was time to go. The cronies followed him down the street and off my block. Me and Tug stood silent, watching them go.

"I didn't need no help." He muttered.

"Yeah? If I hadn't shown up your face woulda hit the pavement." I glanced at him and held out my hand. "Race."

"Tug." We shook and he grinned. "My problems with that mother fucker ain't got nothing to do with you."

"Yeah? It seems that everyone has problems with that mother fucker." We both grinned. "Casey," I pointed at my girlfriend still cuddling my little brother. "is making chicken nuggets tonight. Alright, well she bought 'em, but there's a hell of a lot of 'em."

"Sounds good." Tug nodded and we headed toward my building, hands in our pockets.

"So do you like to fight or something?" I asked, pointing at the gorgeous bruise on his cheek. He laughed.

"Yeah something like that."

"Ya know sometimes I just wanna strangle my father, really I do. I mean why is it my job to make sure that everything goes so fucking perfect? It's his job too ya know? Fuck that! I mean it wasn't my fault that the lock didn't fit right and the keys were useless! Then he starts screamin' at me and telling me that I gotta stay overtime to fix it while he goes home! He also told me that I gotta stop fucking around and do my job! That piece of shit! I just wanna take the fucking keys and shove 'em up his ass!" Jack's voice came through the phone loud and clear. I pulled the device away from my ear and grimaced. I was tempted to throw the silver phone over the edge of the rooftop, but thought against it. It did cost me a hundred and fifty bucks and I knew I would still be able to hear him eight stories down. Me and Tug had been up on the roof for the past hour talking about nothing and everything, getting acquainted further. Jack had met him the day before and deemed him "Worthy enough to get into trouble with." Quite a compliment.

The roof still had sunlight streaming across its pale white floor. The shadows hadn't crept in yet and so the whole scene was quite serene and peaceful. I had already told Tug about Blink, how we'd abandoned this hang out for quite sometime and had only just recently began returning. It was different though. The roof was solemn and even the pigeons seemed to lower their cooing out of respect. I was seated on the roof's ledge, dangling my feet casually when Jack had started screaming. Tug was sitting on our crate table, sipping a beer, trying to listen in but only getting static.

"So, you're not coming to Frankie's?"

"Are you kidding? I'll be there and I'll be there on time! That mother fucker can take all his stupid locks and eat 'em for all I care! It's a Friday! I don't work after five on Friday and I don't care if my father is my boss! He could eat shit!" Click. Jack definitely just hung up on me.

"Hello?" I asked tentatively. A monotonous buzzing greeted me warmly. "Right . . . "

"So we're going to Frankie B's tonight and Jack will most definitely be there and on time. Just having some work issues." I said with a roll of my eyes. Tug gripped the neck of his beer and swirled the yellow liquid in a circle.

"Didn't sound like no normal work issues."

"Eh . . . he works for his dad. What do you expect?" I shrugged.

"I tried that once and I was so pissed by the end of the week I quit." Tug smirked. "It didn't exactly end well. So, now I work in construction. When I get pissed I just smash something and it's alright cause that's what I get paid to do." I laughed at Tug's explanation for working in construction. I'd never thought of it that way before. "I feel bad for Jack, though."

"Yeah, so do I." I paused for a while, drumming my fingers on the edge. I wanted to know what was really going on between Tug and Gino. I had to know. I had to know if I was on the right side. "So . . . why don't you get along with Gino? The real reason."

Tug sighed heavily and raked his fingers through his hair, tugging a bit on its end. He gulped back some more beer, taking his time. His adams apple rolling up and down with each gulp. He stared at the empty beer bottle, reading the label with squinted eyes before peeling it off and crumpling it into a little ball.

"He fucked with my kid." He lifted a shoulder in a one-sided shrug and then lit a cigarette. He cradled the mouth of the lighter's flame carefully, blocking out all wind, his face wrinkled in concentration until he finally had smoke billowing out of his mouth. He looked like a dark dragon. I went to say something but he cut me off. "My kid's mother, my ex you could say, we're not gonna get into that story, well she loaned something from him and promised she'd pay him back later. Anyway, she couldn't pay him back and so he threatened my kid. That bastard broke into Amy's house, grabbed Mikey and told her that if she didn't get the money he'd throw him out the window. When I heard about that I lost it. That's my kid, ya know? I'd lay down in front of train tracks for Mikey." Tug lowered his head and ran a finger down his nose in contemplation. I could still sense there was something in this story that Tug wasn't telling. At least I had him talking about it though.

"When she told me about it, I looked for him and when I found him I broke his nose. I told him if he ever went near my kid again I'd crack him in half. He's the one who gave me the bruise." Tug looked back over at me. "That's the story. Instead of bothering my kid, he's out for my blood." I nodded, crossing my arms, feeling the weight of them against my chest.

"So that's where he got that bad break from."

"Yeah. I pounded him." Tug said with a proud puffed out chest.

"Don't worry. Now it ain't just you. We've got your back."

"Who's we?"

"Jack and me. Jack is one bad ass when he's pissed so you got no problem." Tug scoffed and then smiled. "How olds your kid?"

"One." Tug smiled. It was the first time I'd seem him smile a real smile. A face brightening smile that broke through the coldness of his eyes. I guess everyone has something that can break them from the dreariness of their world. Something that removes them from the bleak streets and bloody fights. For Tug it was his son. "You'll probably meet him soon."

Frankie B's was one of those bars that looked like total shit on the outside and on the inside was pretty decent. There was one of those old fashioned swinging signs with Frankie B's written in cursive writing on the outside. The awning was torn in random places, the flaps blowing with the slight breeze. The brick wall was full of graffiti. People writing love notes such as J hearts P, and other things like Adam was here. At one point or another we'd all written on that wall and I could clearly see Blink ROCKS in black permanent marker by the doorframe. I couldn't help but smile sadly, our friend had left a permanent piece of himself behind. The three of us walking down the block to the bar, all of us dressed in jeans and a cheap button down shirt. That's how we got dressed up, none of us ever wore anything to nice. We walked down the block like we were tied at the hip, all three of us in one straight line. Hands in our pockets, smoke coming out of lips and our hair messy from the wind. We were sorta like the Three Stooges, but better dressed.

"So we gonna meet any girls worthwhile in this place?" Tug remarked casually, waving his hand slightly.

"Depends on what you deem worthwhile." I countered with a shrug as we neared the bar.

"Well ya know, hot and fuckable."

"Oh you mean easy? Yeah of course." Jack replied with a laugh. "Casey's friends are gonna be there tonight. All of 'em." Jack wiggled his eyebrows and slapped me on the back.

"Are Casey's friends easy?" Tug asked with a smirk.

"No they ain't." I countered and shoved Jack forward. He was still smirking though, he nodded his head as he glanced at me.

"No way. Not happening." My look was pure exasperation.

"I have no idea what you'se are talking about." Tug looked annoyed.

"Alright well Casey's got this one friend who's gotta be some goddess. I mean this girl is drop dead fucking gorgeous. She should be a model. She's got these hips that you just . . . mmm." He bit down on his lip and put his hands out as if grabbing her hips in his hands. Tug began to smile.

"So you want her right?" Tug glanced at him right eyebrow lifting in question.

"No way! She ain't my sorta girl. I was thinkin' that if you just wanted an easy fuck that she'd be right up your alley, though she'll cost ya. She's a whore. Sort of a legend actually, the best screw this side of the river." Jack rubbed his fingers together in front of Tug's face.

"Get the fuck outta here. I don't pay for ass." Tug waved him off with a psht sound.

"Your loss. Just wait till you see her. " Jack disregarded Tug with a shrug and pushed on the golden rod to the door. As soon as it cracked open blaring music pumped into my ears. I saw the girls right away, bunched up in a wooden booth in the corner. Casey was laughing, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. She was my goddess. Fuck, I was starting to get cheesy now. Jack coughed and then cleared his throat, pulling on the collar of his shirt. He squeaked and we both regarded him with confusion.

"Sage's there..." He whispered, cheeks growing red. Tug snorted and gripped Jack's shoulder tightly.

"Just don't throw up or nothing, some girls take that as a real turn off." I laughed and pushed my way through the growing crowd. Sliding past drunken sweaty bodies in order to get to Casey. I collapsed into the booth next to her and slung an arm across her shoulder.

"Gino was in here." She whispered into my ear. "What happened?" I waved her off acting like it was no big deal but shared a glance with Tug who was now scooting closer to the goddess we had spoken of earlier. He gave me an inquiring look and I glanced at the door. He knew something was definitely up. Jack crammed himself into the booth in front of me which meant I'd be staring at his face all night long. Thank God Sage was bunched up in the corner. She'd probably end up smacking Jack if she wasn't.

"Did Gino say he'd be back?" I whispered into her ear.

"No, but he wouldn't leave us alone for awhile. Vest told him to take a hike." I nodded and picked up Casey's beer. I took a sip. I swirled it in my mouth and then gulped it down.

"Alright ladies, let's get started."

"We're already two beers in, Jack. You're a little late." Sage said with a smile and finished off what little was left of her beer.

"Well the next round is on me."

"I'm in!" I jumped at the chance. Poor Jack, he was gonna get shot down again. Tug laughed, and from the corner of his eye glanced at the girl. She ran her finger along the top of her bottle, licked her red painted lips and glanced back at him, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

"What's ya name?" He whispered against her neck.

"I don't give my name out to strangers." She gave him a one second look over and her lips started to form into a tentative smile, the slight hint soon faded. "And even if I really knew who you were, I still don't think I'd give you my name." She smiled then, chocolate eyes glowing like amber. "You look like trouble waiting to happen." Casey looked at me and raised a brow.

"He don't know who she is." Jack remarked.

"Casey relax, we told him all about her. He just don't know which girl is which." Jack laughed. Our conversation was interrupted by Vest heading over to our table with enough bottles of beer to last us at least a half hour. That's most likely an understatement.

"You know if you were a girl you'd be the love of my life, Vest." I said to him, resting a hand over my heart. "Seriously now."

"Shut up, Race. These are on the house." He winked at us. "Don't say nothing though." He put his finger over his lips and grinned. When I started sneaking into Frankie B's when I was sixteen Vest was an old guy, now he was an ancient legend. No one knew how old the guy was. He let me drink though so I never had nothing against him. Vest must have owned about a million vests. Every time we came in here he always had a different one on and tonight the vest was orange with blue trim and buttons. Flashy yet not outrageously flamboyant. Vest reminded me of that crazy uncle that everyone has when they're kids. The one who spoils the living shit out of you. We thanked him, as he walked away, by shouting at him at the top of our lungs and cheering as we clanked beers.

"Alright, since you won't tell me your name one of these ladies will." Tug said confidently. She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Try it."

"It's Raven." Sage said with a smug grin. Raven's face turned into a scowl and she threw a napkin at her friend who laughed as she blocked her face.

"Raven, huh?"

"Yeah and who are you?"

"Tug." He actually leaned in and kissed her cheek getting an exaggerated eye rolled in response as she pulled her head away from him. Me and Jack bent our heads to muffle our laughter, Jack getting a slap on the arm from Sage. Well I guess reaching all the way across the table to slap Jack is actually worth it, who knew?

"I didn't know you felt that way, Sage." Jack looked at her with wide hopeful eyes.

"Oh dear god." She muttered and took another sip of beer, avoiding his pathetic doe eyes. I glanced at Casey who was trying hard not to giggle.

"You should be Casanova." Rayturned her body towards Tug in the booth and leaned back against the wall. She licked her lips slowly, making sure her tongue reached every part of the soft skin.

"Is he always like this?" Casey asked me, resting her elbow on the table and pointing her thumb at Tug.

"Well...I wouldn't really know." I replied innocently. She eyed me suspiciously and then narrowed her eyes. I saw Tug nudge Jack on the shoulder and whisper into his ear, Jack nodded. I knew what Jack was telling Tug. After it was said Tug's face curled into a sly smirk before turning his attention back to Raven.

"He ain't gonna hurt her or nothing alright?" Casey still glared at me. "Oh come on..." I shook her shoulder a little. "Case."

"Whatever." I lifted my beer bottle to my face and drank the frothy goodness, sipping it slowly, savoring the bitter crisp taste. I loved the aftertaste of beer, that tart spice in the back of my throat. I saw Tug clasp Raven's hand and slide out of the booth, he stood there holding her hand for a moment while he finished his full beer. He slammed the bottle down on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. She stepped in front of him, weaving through the crowd like a lithe thread through cloth, to the back door. They disappeared in the midst of laughing drunken souls.

Time became something unconscious. Things began to slide in and out of focus, the world blurring around me in a hazy cloud. I was smiling and laughing with my friends. Drinking down every last drop of the cheap beer Vest had brought us. Jack shamelessly flirting with the unwilling Sage while Casey ordered another pitcher. It seemed like it was devoured in minutes by our collective thirst. The crowd began to thin out but not so that the bar was entirely empty. The heavy door opened suddenly and I saw Gino as clear as day enter, his three boys following behind him. My eyes immediately going right back into focus. They all looked like dangerous mirror images and none of them were smiling. They wore black hoodies and torn jeans, eyes creased with anger. I stopped laughing and turned my head to look, to stare at them as though they were foreign.

"Race are you," Jack trailed off when he saw who had just arrived and consequently lost his grip on his beer, sending the bottle toppling. It collapsed onto its side the foaming liquid slithering across the table wormlike and pouring over the side in a piss-like waterfall.

"Well look who's here. My favorite two boys." Gino said, pressing his palms flat against the table, careful to avoid the spill. He leaned down. "And Casey, don't you look stunning tonight."

"Bite me." She snapped and moved toward the corner of the booth.

"What do you want, Gino?" I looked right up into his eyes, wanting a one word answer, or maybe one that I could react to and then he'd leave. That would really be for the best.

"Just looking for your new little friend that's all. I figured you'd be here tonight and was looking forward to running into him that's all."

"He ain't here."

"No? Are ya sure, Race? Be real sure."

"I'm sure."

"Don't start lyin' to me now. It ain't good for your health." I licked my lips and started to stand, muttering "Let's go" as I did. Gino curled his fingers over my shoulder and shoved me back down into the booth. Gino reminded me of some sort of stray dog who liked to pee on everyone's stoops. Yeah, he pissed on everybody when he had the chance.

"I don't think so. Where the fuck is he?"

"I told you he ain't here." And just as I spoke the words Jack's eyes widened. He reached his arm all the way across the wide table to tap me on the shoulder, which didn't make Tug's appearance any less discreet. Jack then decided to get up from the booth, shooting into a standing position like a rocket. One of Gino's hooded thugs shoved Jack not so nicely back into his seat. Tug watched the whole scene with unfeeling eyes from over Gino's shoulder. If I would have been standing there I know I would have been making funny faces and giving Gino bunny years. Let's just say it would have been payback for the brownie.

"Why you movin' so fast, huh?" Raystepped up behind Tug, gripping the crook of his elbow with her slender hand, hiding her body with his massive chest. Tug could have been a rhinoceros in the wild. I hear those things are really fucking mean and Tug can be really fucking mean. I watched as she carefully rose up onto her toes to whisper something into Tug's ear. I could see the fire in his eyes and the hate filled glare that he stared at Gino with. It was like he wished to set Gino's hair on fire. It was only a matter of seconds before the awkwardness hit an ultimate high and Gino discovered Tug behind him.

"Leave 'em alone. This ain't their problem." He hissed in a taunting whisper. The sound of Tug's voice made Gino turn around to him with an evil grin splayed across his face. Raytook an instinctual step back, wanting to get away from Gino. The hell of her shoe made a sharp clicking sound on the floor.

We had all gone silent, everything still while the rest of the bar revolved with life. Music played at its highest volume, beers clanked together in toasts and the shouts of many were heard. The smell of sour beer floating across the air like a cloud.

Gino curled his fingers, sharp like claws, around Raven's arm, yanking her toward him. His fingers digging into her delicate skin most likely leaving painful bruises. She stumbled, her face caught in an inaudible gasp. Gino thrust her up against his chest, pressing his hips forcefully up against her ass. He looped an arm around her waist so tight that her shirt began to curl up her stomach and the skin there turned red. With his free hand Gino let his fingertips play with her ear and then just for kicks he bit her earlobe. Rayshut her eyes and swallowed hard, not moving a muscle.

"Pretty little whore ain't she? I'm wonderin' though, did you have enough to pay for her? She always makes me pay." Gino rasped, his lips brushing against Raven's cheek like a sting. She jerked her head away turned her head as if he lips were diseased, her body rigid at his touch. Her jaw began to tighten and her hand was stretched out fully, each finger long and ready to snap. Gino made the mistake of loosening his grip on her waist. Rayturned in his arms, struck her hand out, digging her fingernails into his face. Thin red lines of blood bubbling up from his skin. Tug's large hand pushed Rayaway from Gino, and she went stumbling into our table, knocking beer bottles and glasses to the floor. Tug flexed his fingers and then curled them into a painfully tight fist and before anyone had a chance to move he had lunged forward, and curled his left hand around Gino's neck. Tug thrust Gino backward into the wall, his fingers tight around his neck, literally strangling him. I watched stunned as Gino clawed at Tug's fingers with bug eyes and his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog's.

When Gino's thugs went to yank us all out of the booth that's when we all jumped up, me rocking myself out of the booth like a gymnast. My hands curling around the hard wood to swing myself out. Jack slid out of the booth and ran for the nearest guy, sending an forearm right up into his throat. I rushed for Gino's other friend wrapping my arms around his waist and running as fast as I could, shoving his back roughly into the wood of the bar. I heard the glasses all around me shatter, the dripping of spilt beer falling to the floor. There was screaming and everyone began to clear a space so the fight could continue.

I reeled my arm back and sent a fist flying up into my opponents chin with a snapping sound, his teeth clinking together. He turned his head to spit before surprising me with a punch to the left side of my face. It throbbed and I thought I felt my cheekbone crack. I ducked his neck punch and sent a nice one up into his gut which made him double over and cough. I thrust my fist upward right into his jaw and his head flew backward at an almost unnatural angle. He looked like a wolf howling at the moon, but painfully. Once his head snapped back into it's right position he grabbed me by the shoulders, turning me over and crashing my back into the wooden bar. I growled in pain, my body beginning to throb horribly from the punches and slams. I send a jab right into his nose and my knuckles collided with bone, grinding deep into the centre of it until his nasal area snapped and blood came gushing forth in a river. His hands encircled my neck and I my air supply was immediately cut off, breathing had ceased to exist for me. My hand searched for something to hit him with, anything to let go so air could come rushing back into my lungs. I grasped the neck of something slender and cold. It was a beer bottle. I brought it up over my head and send it crashing down on top of his, the bottle snapping in half, yellow water splashing down over the both of us. He immediately let go of neck and in a sudden movement grabbed the top of my hair and slammed the back of my head down onto the bar with rattling force. Stars glistened and floating in front of my eyes and suddenly there wasn't one thug, there was three. Three assholes attacking me at once, how rude. I couldn't find a grip and as I fell to the floor he came at me again, stumbling. Jack rushed up behind him and grabbed him by the back of his shirt, yanking him away from me before kicking him into the far wall.

My sight began to tunnel in, everything moving into a tight circle, my eyes focused on Jack slamming his fist angrily over and over into my former opponents face. Everything was blurring now, my eyes clouding over with mist. A rolling fog over my porcelain eyes. My head bobbed forward and I forced it upward. Things were starting to die down and I felt someone loop an arm around my waist to hoist me up from the floor. I couldn't tell you who it was. Sirens. Whoop. Whoop. Whoop. Red flashing lights that I couldn't tell if they were behind my eyes or actually there.

"Out the back!" I heard a girl shout. The fast paced running, clicking of heels, thumping of feet. The loud creek of the back door, a brick wall. Everything went black.

"Shut up you big baby!" I groaned as Rayshouted.

"I ain't a baby you're fucking hurtin' me. Leave me alone, I'm fine."

"No you're not! You're bleedin' from your head!" I stifled a groan as I came too. I knew Casey was there sitting by my bed, but I wouldn't let her know I was alright yet.

"Stop flinchin and let me look at it! Stop acting like a little bitch." Rayagain. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Are you ok?" I heard Sage from the corner of my room.

"No." Jack was most definitely faking that.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Here." Was he really trying to pull that? I knew he was pointing at his lips I could sense it. When would that boy ever learn. Ow, my head was really killing me.

"Oh fuck off!" Sage snapped playfully and I heard a grunt. She'd definitely hit him somewhere.

"Shut up." I croaked out as I opened my eyes and rested a hand on my forehead. I turned to look at the far corner of the room and knew where all the commotion was coming from and instead saw Jack sitting up on the window ledge, Sage close by. Raven and Tug had taken residence on Ben's bed and he was staring at them with wide eyes. I don't think my baby brother had ever seen blood that close up before or for that matter heard that much cursing either. It's not like I'm saying me and Jack were angels but Ray had some mouth.

"Are you alright?"

"No." I grumbled, pushing myself into a sitting position. Casey leaned over and kissed me. "That helps a little."

"Did you beat 'em, Race?" Ben piped up from his bed. He was wearing my old ninja turtle pajamas which were huge on him, he looked adorably ridiculous.

"Course we did, kid." Tug muttered and glanced at him with one eye and then yelped as Raydug her q-tip into his cut.

"Jesus fucking christ, girl!" She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at Ben. He laughed.

"Yeah, Ben, you had to see what the other guys looked like when we was done with em. None of them could ever walk." Jack piped in with a grin.

"Stop making it look like fighting is a good thing. Benny will grow up thinking fighting is what he should be doing." Sage snapped at Jack with her hands on her hips.

"I can't fight anyways, I got asthma." Tug coughed and then chuckled before reached a hand out and ruffling his hair.

"Now that we're all awake boys." Casey said sternly, stopping the joyous tone in the room. I moaned, my head seemed to ache more now. It was lecture time.

"I'm not awake, just pretend I'm still passed out and that you're feeling sorry for me."

"Cut the shit. Seriously, can we please go at least six months without a fight?" I started to smirk, glancing at my friends. We all looked at each other and started to smile.

"Don't think it's possible Case." Jack said grinning.

"Maybe a month?" I asked.

"Nah, I give it two weeks." Tug answered.

"I guess we could handle two weeks, but don't come crying to me when one of you'se gets really hurt." Casey said, pointing her finger, or fingers, in my face. I couldn't tell if there was one of two. I guess that wasn't a really good sign now was it? Oh well. I shut me eyes for a second.

"Are you'se staying over?" Ben looked around the room and asked. There was really no point in anybody going home, it was already late and we were all beat up to the point where not one of us wanted to move and we'd definitely be sore in the morning.

"Yeah, they'se staying over. Ben why don't ya go and call Domino's or somethin?"

"Thank god! I always get so god damn hungry after a fight!" Jack cheered and pumped his fist with a grin.

"You would." Sage said and couldn't help but grinning herself.

"Yes, pizza!" Ben exclaimed at darted out of the room, shutting the door carefully behind him so as not to wake my mother who was probably passed out on the couch.

"So what'd you do to Gino?" I asked Tug.

"Beat the living shit out of him." Tug grinned and poked his head out from over Raven's shoulder. "And kicked him so hard in the balls that he'll never be able to reproduce." We all laughed at that as Tug smirked and raised his brows. I grabbed my head, god did it hurt, but I couldn't stop laughing.


	3. 42nd St

Subway Pinch

The New York State subway, or MTA, was not normally an enjoyable experience. It was especially not enjoyable at 8 o'clock in the morning. The subway platforms were crowded with stupid high school kids going to school, businessmen in starched white collars and the token homeless man laying on the bench, stinking like beer and piss. The tile walls were covered in advertisements and graffiti put up there by some punk who had nothing better to do with his life. I always wondered how they got the graffiti way deep into the tunnels though. That always amazed me, to see blurred words in bright pink rush by right between stops. Once on the train there isn't hardly room for a cockroach let alone to breath. Everyone is crammed in like a bunch of stinking sardines, cheap perfume forcing its stench up into my nose mixing with somebody's random flatulent letting.

This probably wouldn't have been so bad except that I was sick, near death actually. Ok, no, I'm lying, but death was looking a lot better then being squished for forty five minutes against a germ infested metal pole. I wasn't dying, which sucked, but I did have the flu. I could hear people's iPods blasting meringue, bad techno (my head's pounding starting to match the monotonous rhythm. It was Cascada on top of it. That's all that's been on the fucking radio.), and cheesy rap music providing by the oh so intelligent vocal stylings of 50 Cent.

I had basically taken control of the pole, gripping with all ten fingers and holding on for dear life. The train rattled on, the swishing sound of the wheels on the tracks a constant vibration and shake. I was praying that I wouldn't puke. I was not going to puke until at least the 42nd St. Times Square stop. It was perfectly acceptable to puke there, everyone else did. People all around me sniffled, sneezed, coughed, scratched themselves, picked their noses, snored, and slept all while the train rattled on. My head was going to explode like an atom bomb and take out the subway system. I singlehandedly was going to cause every commuters nightmare. That's another lie, but that's what felt like was going to happen. As the bright yellow lights flashed by the open windows my eyes throbbed and tracks of white light remained behind my eyelids. The midnight dark of the tunnel made me forget it was only eight am. When I remembered I leaned harder against the pole and held back a whimper.

Whoa! What was that? Seriously, that shouldn't have happened. I'm surrounded by guys. Did someone just grab my ass? I lifted my heavy head from the pole and gazed around with my half lidded eyes. I jerked forward spasmodically as I felt a pinch once more, banging my arm into the pole. I muttered a grunt. Alright, so someone had definitely taken a liking to my butt. When Casey hears about this she's going to laugh her ass off. See, this is one of those things that's not funny while it's happening but gets funny when you tell it to your friends. There it was again! Another ass grabbing pinch. Now, that was enough.

"Stop grabbing my ass!" I yelled out in my nasally clogged voice.

"You got a problem, white boy." See if this was some gang thug I would have smacked him, but when I wheeled around on this guy, I gawked. I literally gawked at him. This was the biggest black man I had ever seen. He might have just looked like the biggest black man I'd ever seen, since my eyes were out of focus and my head was throbbing, but still he was huge. This guy had wrestler-esque broad shoulders, a stomach that was hard as lead and his arms muscles were the size of basketballs.

"Uh no? Not unless you were the guy grabbing my ass," leave it to me to be sarcastic early in the morning while I'm sick.

"Well, what if I was?" Jesus Chris in hell. Today was seriously not the day to get into a fight with the biggest black man ever created. I could barely breath let alone stand up properly. Lifting a fist with enough strength to take this guy, even though I knew I'd get the shit kicked out of me, hell, Dougal would even get the shit kicked out of him by this guy. Now, that's saying something, that kid never lost a fight.

"Uh, well...I just assumed you had better taste in men then me." A short pause later I flashed him a toothy fake smile. The look on this guys face went from docile to hostile in a matter of seconds. I still had three stops to go and boy was I starting to push it.

"Yeah? Better taste in men? What if I like scrawny little white boys?"

"Well I ain't uh, ya know, ragging on your taste or nothing." A squeaking raspy laugh came from the back of my throat.

"I think you were."

"No...no I wasn't."

"Yeah?" I was going to get beat up, right here and right now. Actually, maybe I wasn't the train was too crowded to get beat up on at the moment. The train doors opened and random faces plodded off the train while even more got on. I was trying to inch my way toward the door when he grabbed me by my shirt and yanked me close to him. Where the hell were my friends when I really needed them?

"Why can't we just go about our business? You don't want to get the flu do you? See, I'm dying." I cough, it was a fake cough but I still coughed.

"You think you're funny don't you?"

"No, I don't really." I tried to pull myself away but his grip was so strong that I stumbled instead. "Um, sir, could you let go?"

"I don't think so." Things were going from bad to worse pretty quickly.

"If I said please would that help?"

"No."

"At least your honest." So I stood there, way too close to this huge black guy that had a strange liking for my scrawny white ass. I didn't think it was that scrawny though, but evidently he did. So I just stared at him, trying to keep his face in focus, thinking about what to do about this very persistent problem. Then, miraculously, I thought of what to do. I raised my food rather slowly, still gripping onto the pole and just as the train doors opened I brought it down on his black leather shoe. He squealed in pain, yes the big black man squealed and while he was squealing he let me go. I shoved my way through the crowd of people surrounding the door, knowing that he was right behind me and just as the doors were beginning to close I leapt out onto the platform. Saved! No, not really. He was right behind me. Just for once couldn't a conductor save some helpless commuter? Evidently it wasn't in their job description.

"Shit!" I screamed as I forced myself to run. I dodged people lining the platform and walking towards the train, slamming into some man with a briefcase.

"Fucking kids!" He screamed while I fought my way up the stairs and out of the subway station. I finally made my way out into the fresh air where a wave of nausea washed over me. This was not the time to throw up. I gulped loudly and before I could manage to get to someplace discreet I vomited all over the pristine concrete. The bile burning my throat like a lit match. The guy from the train must have been turned off by my amazing digestive pyrotechnics. I'd lost him apparently. Well at least I was on 42nd street.


	4. Dirty Filthy Skin

Dirty Filthy Skin

It had been raining. The streetlights danced with dew and the puddles on the street reflected glass windows and buildings. Everything was still with damp and wetness, it curled up into the air in a sweet mist. The mist curled around Raven like smoke as she carefully stepped on the wet cold concrete. She was barefoot, as always, and her head was down. Her toes curled as her foot touched a puddle and yet she still continued onward, passing by alleyways and streets. She knew it would take her a long time to get to Tug's place, he lived by Max, but she didn't care. A trash can collapsed with a loud crash, but she walked on as if nothing happened. A pigeon flew out from behind an alley wall making her stumble backwards.

When it started raining Raven had just finished getting dressed, buttoning up her blouse, and when she walked outside she'd noticed the trickling drizzle. She'd stepped out into the middle of the street, swung her arms out wide, and arched her back up to meet the rain. She opened her mouth to heaven's sweet waters and drank it in. Raven walked that way, not caring that she was stepping on pebbles, through the rain. She was cleansing her body clean as the rain seeped into the cloth of her blouse, ran down the cavern of her chest and danced over her eyes. When the rain stopped she felt dirty once again and hung her head as she started out for home. That's when she decided should couldn't be alone. She wanted to scratch off her skin, to tear away her silky filth ravenously. Raven knew she couldn't do that and so she headed to Tug's.

The old iron stairs creaked and groaned as Raven mounted them. Her bare feet froze as she rested them on the stairs. She looped one hand over the upper half of her arm, shielding herself from the light breeze that had begun to sweep through the alley. The glowing yellow light encased the entire alleyway, like poisonous sun rays. The alley was shadowed in corners, shadows that seemed to crawl and creep about in the night just to scare unsuspecting passersby. A rat was scuffling about in the dumpster down the end, searching for its gourmet dinner of molding cheese and half eaten macaroni. A cat eyed this rat with evil intent, it's green eyes glowing yellow in the soft light. The street lamp seemed to cast a beauty on the ugliness before her and she turned her head away from the glorified urban scene.

She continued to climb. She walked up the rickety fire escape like it was a mountain. She stepped carefully like Jack had done climbing up his beanstalk. Her fingers held the railing with such an intensity that her arm was taught and her knuckles had gone white as snow. Raven still couldn't believe she was climbing to his window, thought she knew he'd understand anything she had to say. Tug was cold, solemn and angry, but loyal, and although he'd used her just as much as any other man, he was loyal and she needed someone strong to listen to her. Raven needed his strong arms to envelop her and sweep her away to some clouded place where there was no need for thoughts.

Her feet finally touched the grated platform at Tug's floor. She tossed her purse into the corner, a strap from her black high heels flipping out over the edge. Raven knelt down carefully onto the platform and crawled over to the window. Half of her face illuminated in the amber glow of the street lamp, a broken halo. The window was covered by a white bed sheet, used to block out the sun, she thought he would still be awake. Evidently he wasn't, the room was pitch black and when she pressed her ear to the chilled glass she could faintly hear snoring. Raven flattened out her palm against the glass, her fingers long and thin. She curled her fingers into a fist and rapped on the window. Tap tap tap. She waited patiently and a chill swept over her so she curled her arms against her chest and bounced to keep warm. The breath that fluttered from her mouth looked like white smoking butterfly wings. She knocked again. Tap tap tap. In a matter of minutes the white shade went flying up to the ceiling and she could see his face, his sharp angular face. His muscles bulged like ripened oranges as he yanked open the window, the air blowing back his black hair from his face. Her eyes were greeted with those of an angry sleep deprived rainstorm. Raven couldn't help but notice his broad shoulders and strong chest under his wife beater and how his arms were always pulsing with energy.

"What the hell are ya doin' here?" Tug snapped harshly before emitting a loud yawn. Raven responded with a shrug and looked away from him. Her lips twitched into a deeply sorrowful frown. Tug stood still, watching her shaking body for only a moment and then crawled out onto the fire escape. When seated next to Raven he seemed to tower over her like a giant fortress. Tug pulled out a pack of Marlboro's from his boxer's pocket and a silver Zippo lighter. When he looked over at Raven he noticed. He noticed the coal like streaks of eyeliner and the midnight curtain of mascara. Her bottomless eyes were a soft puddle and her damp hair lay limp down her back. A button had popped off her blouse and Tug stared at the curve of her breasts under her black bra. The smooth lumps shimmering from the drying rainwater. Her lipstick was smeared and she deftly wiped a finger under her bottom lip to smooth the line straight, then she reached over to the corner of the small platform and snatched up her bag, placing it in her lap. She began to shuffle through it, the items thumping around like hooves, each getting shifted back and forth between tampons, lipsticks, wallet, and loose coins. She plucked out a clear gloss which she opened with a twirl, applying the stickiness with agility to her chapped lips. All was silent, the world beneath them and above them were thick with the silence. An early morning silence that penetrated into each corner of every house, every building and every soul.

"Do you remember the exact moment that you wasn't a kid no more?" She said suddenly, her eyes focusing on the brick wall across the way before turning to his own.

"Yeah. It wasn't that long ago, ya know?" Tug said with a smirk and then lit two cigarettes, one of which he passed into her shaking hands. She took it and held it between her index and middle fingers, the lip gloss resting in the palm of her left hand. She began to fiddle with it nervously, turning it over and over in her hands, the cigarette bobbing up and down with smoke curling across her hands.

"What was it? I mean was it somethin' that you wanna remember or was it somethin' that you think, God I shoulda waited before it happened, I shoulda waited before I grew up like that."

"Well, it's something that I shoulda waited for, but I wouldn't change it for anything, ya know?" He blew smoke out of his mouth, lips forming a round O.

"What was it?"

"When I saw my son for the first time." He looked over at her and smiled. It was one of those rare smiles that had nothing behind it, nothing sinister, malicious or conniving, it was a true smile. He always had that smile when he talked about his son. Raven chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, pulling at the split chapped skin and then turned her body to face him more easily, her shoulder resting against the wall.

"The moment I wasn't a kid no more I was in the backseat of an old dodge caravan with this guy. The very second I knew I wasn't a kid no more was when he unzipped my jeans and slid his hand down my pants, forcing his fingers into me. I think that was worse then losing my virginity."

"What was the guy's name?"

"The guy's name ain't important. I don't remember his name, but the thing that's important is the moment, ya know? Everything that's ever defined me in my life has had to do with some guy getting something outta me." She swallowed hard, lowering her head so the curling tendrils of hair fell across her face. Tug looked away from her, out at the brick lined rooftops and licked his lips.

"Have you ever thought that maybe you just let 'em have it? That maybe you let things happen to ya? You let me have what I wanted didn't ya? You didn't have to, you didn't even charge me." He looked back at her.

"That was different." She looked up at him, eyes misting over once again. "And don't talk to me like that, you ain't gotta be cruel."

"I ain't being cruel. I'm telling you like it is. Every night somebody sees you walking down the street after fucking some guy for next to nothing and every night you look like your about to break."

"That ain't true."

"What are ya doing right now? Why did you come here instead of going home then? You're breaking."

"Shut the fuck up, Tug. I don't need this from you." Raven flung the lip gloss back into her bag, pulling the cloth purse to her chest, curling up her knees around it. For a moment, Tug thought she looked like a little girl with her chin pressed close to her knees. He saw her shoulders begin to shake and her head tip forward, her arms hugged tighter. He could feel everything give way underneath her, wash out of her like a river pouring out into the ocean.

"I have to do something. I have to fix whatever the fuck is broken and I don't know how. I don't know how or I can't or I won't, but I have to do something. I can't keep doing this. Every time someone rolls off me I feel dirty, filthy, like I'm crawling with bugs and all I wanna do is rip my skin off! I wanna tear it off and throw it out so no one can see what it really looks like! I have to stop, but if I do what am I gonna do? I got no money, no one has no money! I can't..." Her voice cracked, choking on a sob and suddenly she lifted her head, turning it away from him so all he saw was the line of her neck.

He was silent, shocked into absolute silence. He was cruel and harsh, but watching someone cry was never something he liked, not even if it had been his fault. It actually drove him crazy and made him feel helpless. A feeling that, to him, was useless. It rattled his nerves and made him uncharacteristically uncomfortable. Here was this girl, sitting on his fire escape, crying to him, pouring out her heart for a reason he didn't understand and yet all he wanted to do was take her dirty skin and scrub it clean. He'd scrub away the mascara, eyeliner, blurred rim of lipstick. He'd wipe away the purple and yellow bruises and he'd gently scrub her crotch so it didn't bleed and wasn't sore any more. Then he'd kiss away the pain, sucking it out of her mouth like a vacuum and she wouldn't cry.

"When you fucked me I didn't feel dirty." She muttered quietly, still staring off into space. He watched as a tear floated down her chin and dripped onto her chest. Tug took his final drag and stared at the cigarette filter for a few seconds before tossing it over the railing, down to the earth below. Though there was still a haze of darkness, he could hear the starting of the pigeons cooing. Then as though a magnet grasped the tips of his fingertips, his fingers gripped her chin and turned her face to look at his own. He didn't say a word, but brought his lips close to her ear, fingers cupping one side of her face.

"You ain't dirty." The scruff of his facial hair scratched her face softly, prickling her tender skin as he moved his face away, looking into her eyes. She didn't move, just tilted her head up slightly and when he kissed her it was not sweet or soft, but urgent and rough. He was rough, and he'd always be rough, but she'd rather have rough then dirty. She kissed him back harshly, pushing herself into his arms, her entire body crushed up against his chest. She grasped his face and pushed her body up against him, kissing with all her might as her thighs crushed his waist. Raven shivered, goose bumps rippling down over her skin. She pulled her mouth away from his and crawled off his lap.

"I should go home," She muttered, reached for her pocketbook. Tug tugged open the window and started to crawl inside.

"I ain't lettin' you walk home now."

"Are you actually worried about me?"

"No. Just figured that you'd spend the night here since you're shiverin.'" He crawled into his room and without any other invitation Raven followed him.

Tug walked over to his dresser and opened up the bottom drawer, he pulled out a white t-shirt and a pair of boxers which he tossed to Raven. She caught the clothing and asked, "Where's the bathroom?"

"Right across the hall." He motioned toward the door and as she was leaving he called out in a whisper, "Be quiet, Mikey's sleepin' alright?" She nodded and left the room.

Once in the porcelain bathroom, Raven began to change out of her damp clothes. She had to pry each article of clothing from her body, it was stuck to her like a snake's skin. She tossed each wet piece to the floor and pulled the soft cotton over her shoulders. It hung on her like a short dress, a shoulder peeping through the neck of the shirt. She looked over at the oval mirror and stepped closer. Her face was unrecognizable and she gently touched the skin of her cheek, staring with wonder at her own face. She glanced away, grabbed a towel from the rack on the door and started to towel dry her hair, ruffling it with the fluffy material. She walked from the bathroom back into Tug's room this way, rubbing the towel back and forth on her head with once hand.

"Sit down." He motioned her toward the bed and she took a seat. Tug stepped over to her, grasped the towel in his own hands and began to rub her head dry. She couldn't help but reveal a small smile and she looked up at him as she continued smoothing the towel over her long hair.

"What?"

"You do this for Mikey?"

"Yeah, all the time. I'm a pro at it." She laughed a bit as he stopped and took the towel off her head. He still held the towel in his hands and crouched down before her, taking a corner of it in his hand. "Shut your eyes." She did so and he gently rubbed the scruffy cloth against her face, wiping off the smudged makeup slowly so as not to irritate her skin too much. Last he brushed the towel across her forehead and then tossed it to the floor.

"That's better." Raven smiled, looking down at him, her face clean and fresh, nothing showing traces of the mess she'd been before.

"Thanks." Tug shrugged and stood up, his knee popping as he did so. Raven saw the crib nestled near the door and got up, moving closer to where Mikey lay asleep. He looked like his father, a head full of pitch black hair, and strong features for a little kid.

"So you like kids?" Tug asked, sitting down on his bed.

"No, all the do is shit, eat, sleep and whine." He laughed.

"Ya know you're tellin' this to a guy with a kid."

"Yeah, but I guess I could make an except for this one. He's cute."

"That's cause he's sleepin.'" Tug said with a smirk. She laughed and then covered her mouth with a hand as she yawned.

"So, how we doin' this? You sleepin on the floor or something?"

"Have you lost your mind? It ain't like I never seen you naked, we can sleep in the same bed." Tug rolled his eyes and so did she. Raven crawled into the bed, moving close to the wall and burrowing up underneath the covers. He got in next to her and looped his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Raven curled up on her side, watching him as he tried to fall asleep. Soon Tug turned over pulling the covers with him and she tugged them back over her.

"Hey! Quit hogging the sheets."

"I ain't the one hogging the sheets." She argued and then turned over on her other side, stretched a leg out and kicking him accidentally.

"Alright! I ain't sleeping like this."

"Well it ain't exactly comfortable for me either." Raven flipped over onto her back at turned her head to the side. "What the hell are we doin?"

"I got no idea, but all I know is ya better put up with my kid."

"I said I would." Tug nodded and Raven moved closer to him, looping an arm around his waist and placing her head on his chest. He didn't move for a moment. He'd never actually held someone while he slept, not even Mikey's mother. He'd usually just turn over and give every girl the cold shoulder. He wasn't the cuddling type. Tug would get annoyed with anyone if they tried to hold him for to look, but Raven wasn't trying to keep him in one place, her presence wasn't restricting. He raised his arm and laid his hand over her shoulder gently. Her skin was so soft it was like velvet and seemed to melt like butter underneath his hand. He curled and uncurled his fingers against her soft skin, the t-shirt tickling his hand.

"Do I gotta change his diapers?" She whispered sleepily.

"Are you nuts? I ain't even gonna leave you alone with the kid. You'd probably kill him accidentally." She laughed and shifted so she was more comfortable while he grinned.

As the sun came up over the sleeping streets and quiet alleyways, glistening into windows and dancing over the rooftops everything below them started to shake to life. The sleeping birds began to coo with awakening. Men left the apartments buildings, unlocking their cars so they could get to work. Race was on his way to the docks for his morning job when he realized he didn't see Raven that morning. Jack was already stuck in a bank installing an alarm system, cursing under his breath at his father who was sitting on his ass drinking coffee. Sage was on the subway, making her way to class and Casey was walking Ben to school. Everyone had come to life but the two of them. As the streets moved with kids going to school, cars, and everyday life, they slept.


	5. Come Back

Come Back

It was late and I was tired. The world around me seemed to yawn as well. The streets had died down and there was no life to the place I called home. Even the kids who hung out on street corners hustling and dealing were gone. I was in that span of time where nothing was happening. It lasted for only a millisecond but it still existed. Everything was blank, a crisp white sheet of paper with no doodling or words.

I pushed open the door to my fourth floor apartment, 4F to be exact and entered the room. Immediately the smell of cigarettes, rotten garbage and dirt smacked me in the face. I wrinkled my noise and grit my teeth against the smell, mentally going through the list of chores I would have to perform before I went to bed that night. Take out the garbage, do some laundry, clean the dirty dishes, pay the electric, pay the cable, pay the phone, and pay the rent. All these things constantly filtered through my mind, the nagging of yet to do and bills was always there.

Then there was my mother. There she was slouched up against the arm of the couch, a cigarette poised in her right hand, burning down to the filter. Her hair was pinned in yesterday's curlers and her bathrobe hung limply around her, like a dirty gown. The TV was on. It was always on in this house and my mother's eyes were glued to the screen. The television was a bulls eye and my mother's eyes were the arrows. Ashes were scattered about the floor near the sofa, as if my mother had never thought to move from that one spot to flick them into the ashtray so appropriately placed in front of her. The air seemed to be thick with the heavy smoke of cigarettes and everything had the sickening yellow tint to it.

"You been there all day?" I inquired angrily, pulling off my jacket and throwing my keys onto the kitchen table which I needed to fix.

"Yeah," She said in a barely audible whisper, waving me away with her hand. I glanced at the TV and saw that Jerry Springer was on. Men who leave their wives for younger women. How appropriate. If it wasn't for self control I would take my fist and slam it right through the televison set.

"Did you ever think that maybe you could get up?"

"No." Her eyes were still directed at the TV, even as she brought the cigarette to her lips.

"You know, maybe I dunno clean somethin'?"

"Ssh, not now Race."

"Not now?" I could feel my eyes bulging out of my head with rage. Like one of those cartoon character's ya know? When they see something outrageous. "Ma!" I snapped my fingers thinking a sound could jolt her attention. "I'm over here! Look at me!" No dice.

"I'm busy, Race."

"You're busy?" I could feel my heart pounding with unbridled rage. My ears had begun to ring and my eyes were seeing red. I was ready to pounce like a lion on the hunt. I wanted to jump on my mother and strangle her with my bare hands until every last beating breath was choked out of her. "You're busy! I'm the one who's busting my ass twenty four seven! You won't even get up to wipe your own ass! Look at you!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" She finally looked at me as if broken from her televised trance. "Didn't I teach you respect? You sound like your father!"

"Respect? How can I respect someone that won't fucking take care of herself? Respect you? You're a sorry excuse for a human being! Ever since dad left all you do is lay around here crying and feeling sorry for yourself all day while I've gotta go out and work, pay the bills, take care of Ben and whatever else needs to get done around here! If anyone deserves respect it should be me!"

"Race, I'm warning you! Stop talking to me like that now!"

"Why? Cause I sound like dad? How would you even know what dad is like? You stopped talking to him after I was born! He fucked you out of pity! Now I know why he left cause he knew you'd end up like this!"

"Get out!" My mother stood up from her permanent seat on the couch and pointed her finger at the door. "Get out now." She hissed at me in a low growl, the only emotion she had shown in three years. Three years ago my father left. He announced to me and my mother that he had met someone else, she was twenty five, had fake tits and bleached blonde hair, basically the definition of barbie. My dad moved in with her that Sunday. That Sunday he was supposed to take me and Ben to Coney Island for Nathan's hot dogs. It wasn't like I gave a shit but Ben did and I hated seeing Ben cry. He said not to worry, that he would always take care of his own. We've never seen a dime and we haven't seen him regularly either.

I stepped up to my mother, towering over her, my eyes boring holes deep into her greasy haired scalp twinkling with dandruff.

"If I go no one will pay the rent and then you and your TV will be out on your ass." I sneered at her, my voice cold. My world had turned cold and when I looked at that woman all she was to me was some girl who pushed me out of her. She wasn't my mother, she wasn't any type of mother. I set my mouth in a small line and ground my teeth, my eyes glued to hers as I turned around. I bent down to pick up my jacket and as I pulled on the sleeves I saw Ben standing in the doorway to our room, his head peeking out into the hall. He had heard the whole thing. I froze just as I was pulling the collar down and adjusting my jacket.

"Go back to sleep, Ben." I said to him in a more normal controlled tone. He shook his head, I could hear him wheezing. He padded out into the living room and stepped all the way up to me.

"You're coming back, right Race?" He was tilting his head all the way back to look up at me, he'd forgotten to put on his glasses and was squinting so bad to see me. I knew he was trying to see every inch of so that if I didn't come back he could remember every pore, wrinkle and imperfection on my face. Ben had studied our father's face that diligently when he said goodbye, but he had his glasses in. I still think the only thing Ben remembers about that day is dad's brown valise and the back of his head. I crouched down so I could look into Ben's squinted eyes and rumpled his already messy mop of brown hair.

"Course I am, but I'm gonna stay at Casey's for the night. You need me just call my phone I'll leave it on."

"Can I come?"

"No. Not this time." I gave his shoulder a slight squeeze and then glanced at my mom.

"Benny, come here right now." My mother snapped and Ben just stared at her.

"No." He replied quietly.

"You should be glad that I care about someone in this place, or I wouldn't come back." I zipped up my coat and grabbed the keys off the kitchen table. I took the three steps to the door, turned the knob with a flick of my wrist and left the apartment, letting the door slam behind me. I heard Ben run up to the door, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors as I ran down the apartment stairs to the front door. I knew his face was pressed against the peep hole, wishing I would turn around and come back. He knew I wasn't coming back that night or maybe even then next, but he knew I was coming back. I had watched him stand in that very same place after my father walked out the door. He stood on tip toe, pigeon toed and awkward, one eyeglass pressed against the peephole, the rim of his glasses diving into his cheek to leave a red line that would later form a bruise. He lied to his friends in the first grade and said that he got it from a fight, but they all knew he was lying but weren't mean enough to say anything.

"He's coming back." Ben said. I knew he wasn't, but Ben didn't. I would go back, just for Ben. After this I'd never speak to my mother again.


End file.
